Conspiracy
by HopeCoppice
Summary: Ingrid, Vladimir, Bertrand. Each one devious in their own right, but what happens when they start teaming up? Slash in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Just a little three-parter, the third part of which I haven't actually written yet so be prepared for a wait. Enjoy! There's a bit of a time jump at the line break down there, by the way. Just so you're not confused.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own. Fortunately for the characters.**

"You know there's a truce between the Draculas at the moment. I can't go against Vlad. So you might want to consider that before you tell me exactly what you're plotting." Sure, Ingrid couldn't turn on her brother for now, but that didn't mean she wanted to run to him with details of every little scheme. Bertrand sighed.  
"It's not... I don't mean him any harm. I just want him to stop hating me. I thought perhaps you'd help." She raised an eyebrow.  
"And why would I do that?"

* * *

Vlad didn't know what Ingrid was up to, but he didn't feel entirely comfortable with it. A few times today she'd mentioned how important it was for the family to all eat dinner together, and now the meal was becoming ominous in his mind. So it was a pleasant surprise to find himself alone in the dining room at the appointed hour, food already set out for two people, he noticed. Perhaps Ingrid was planning to join him and reveal what on earth was going on with her.

Sure enough, she appeared in the doorway, but only for long enough to flash him a grin and lock the door on him. He groaned; his father had had every lock in their quarters changed to argentilium so he couldn't just use his powers on them – Ingrid had had to wear gloves to turn the key. Fine. Well, he'd see who was laughing when she realised she'd just donated her dinner to the Feed Vladimir Fund. He'd just slumped into his seat when the door opened and was locked shut again, too fast for him to realise what was happening. He looked round, expecting Ingrid, ready to demand an explanation.

What he saw was Bertrand.

The surprise disappeared from Vlad's face quickly, to be replaced by a scowl as he stood.  
"What are you doing here?"  
"Having dinner with you." Vlad scoffed at that.  
"What makes you think that's a good idea?"  
"I need to apologise."  
"After a _month_? You're lucky I haven't already thrown you out; Ingrid said you had to stay and train her. It's the only reason you're still here... if that _is_ what you were doing in the training room for all that time-"  
"It's not." Vlad looked stung by that for some reason, but Bertrand simply took his place at the other side of the table and they both sat down in silence, ignoring the food in front of them.

"I should have apologised sooner. I was wrong to take Erin, I was wrong to take the Book, and I was wrong to betray your trust. I'm truly sorry, Vlad." The Chosen One considered that for a moment.  
"Then what took you so long?"  
"I've been busy."  
"In the training room, with my sister."  
"Yes."

Vlad lashed out, knocking the bottle of soy blood he'd brought with him clear across the room. It smashed against the wall and he cursed loudly.  
"I could really have done with a drink, as well." Bertrand hesitated, then pushed the goblet he'd just filled from his own hip flask across the table, infuriating his student still further. "I don't drink that, you know tha-" He paused, sniffing at the liquid suspiciously. "This is soy. Why did you bring soy-?"

Bertrand stood, turning his back on Vlad. This was hard enough to explain without having to watch the other vampire's reaction.  
"It's what I drink, now. Vlad, you need to understand - I've been addicted to breather blood for the last 250 years. It's only been recognised as an addiction recently and only by very few vampires, but... it was clouding my judgement. I was angry and concerned about the way you'd brushed off the slayer threat, so I hid in Erin's car to get out of the school and away. I couldn't stand being here anymore. I had to go and do something. But I hadn't drunk anything in... well, too long, it seems. She got in the car and I could hear her blood rushing... I wanted to drain her. But I thought I wouldn't waste her blood; I'd use it to protect us from the slayers. We all know how that turned out."

Vlad was silent, across the table, and Bertrand risked a glance behind him, turning to see the boy frowning down at his rapidly-cooling food.  
"I couldn't pledge my allegiance to you again, couldn't begin to seek forgiveness, until I knew my blood problem wouldn't take over again. I asked Ingrid for her help. All that time, in the training room, I was going through blood withdrawal. It... wasn't pretty. I owe your sister a debt of gratitude. But I am recovering. I can try to serve you better now, if you'll let me."

After a horribly long pause, Vlad nodded slowly.  
"If you _ever_ betray me again, I won't forgive you." Bertrand hung his head, accepting this. "And if you ever need help, with the blood or anything else, I'll help you." He looked up in surprise.  
"What?"  
"I let you stay here, in my house, despite the fact you hadn't apologised for _treason_, for a _month_ after you tried to kill Erin. What, you thought I didn't care about you?"  
With that, the Chosen One picked up his fork and the matter was closed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part two of conspiracy, and it's all change! Takes place an indefinite - though probably short - period of time after the previous chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own, it would be a much worse show if I did.**

"Ingrid. I need your help with something." This rather ominous statement lost some of its menace when Vlad continued, "And you have to promise not to laugh."

"I can't believe you're making me help you with this." Ingrid grumbled as she flicked through Vlad's wardrobe. "Is _everything_ you own checked?" She pulled out a red button-up shirt and held it up, looking it over with a critical eye. "Apparently not. Good. This will do. And probably a cape-"  
"No cape." She frowned at her brother and he sighed. "I don't want to look like the Chosen One tonight, alright?" Ingrid rolled her eyes.  
"Right. Well, you get changed, and I'll go and distract Dad. Good luck, little brother." She smiled at him. "And if you screw this up, I'm never going to let you live it down." With those reassuring words, she disappeared in the direction of the throne room.

Vlad changed into the shirt she'd picked out and made his way to the training room to find Bertrand.

* * *

"Bertrand?" The Chosen One's tutor lowered the sword he'd been practicing with – he never stopped – and turned towards the door.  
"Vla...?" He trailed off, taking in his appearance. "You're a little dressed up for training. Hot date?" He turned away again to place his sword carefully on the table, wrapping it in silk. Behind him, he could hear Vlad shifting his weight from one foot to the other.  
"I hope so." He looked round, raising an eyebrow in question. "...I've got a dinner reservation at that steak place in town. The... cooked meat, not the pointy wood." He chuckled awkwardly. "So, um, how about it?" Bertrand didn't hesitate; he shrugged and made for the door.  
"Of course, if you need a guard detail..." Vlad put a hand out to stop him.  
"No, I'm... saying it wrong. Look, just... give me a moment, I had something planned." Bertrand was definitely confused now, but he waited as Vlad closed his eyes, mouthed something, and then nodded decisively, blue eyes springing open again and fixing on Bertrand.

"I want... I'd really like you to come with me. As... on a date. If you want. And none of this 'I have to because you're the Chosen One' stuff, only if you want to." Bertrand frowned at him.  
"You think you could order me to go out with you? Someone tried something similar once - it didn't end well for him." His eyes widened slightly as he realised what he'd said. "I'm not threatening you. I just mean that I wouldn't go on a date out of obligation; my duties to you don't extend to that area."

Vlad nodded, his face falling.  
"Yeah... yeah, of course, it was just an idea, I didn't mean to..." Bertrand cut him off.  
"This steak place. What kind of dress code are we talking about?" Vlad stared at him, bewildered, as his tutor began rummaging in the small case he kept his possessions in. "Can't make you look bad on our first date, can I?"  
"Our..." Vlad wanted to express his relief and happiness at Bertrand's agreement, but that's not what came out. "First? As in... of more than one?"

Bertrand grimaced.  
"Ah, I'm getting ahead of myself... let's see how it goes, shall we?" Vlad grinned at him.  
"Yeah. Our first date." Bertrand's smile completely transformed his face, before he shooed Vlad outside.  
"You don't get to watch me change before we've even had dinner." Vlad smirked.  
"And after dinner?" The door closed in his face, but he could hear the chuckling within. In no time at all, Bertrand was back at his side and they were walking towards the town centre.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry this has taken too long - it took a while for me to work out what they could conspire about. Fortunately the series itself had the answer! Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine at all.**

"Ingrid?" She raised an eyebrow; Bertrand and her brother had been up to something all week – something more than just their usual pathetic attempts at romance. They'd been making mysterious visits to distant vampires, spending more time than ever in the library, falling silent whenever she walked into rooms. Now, with Vlad asking for her attention and Bertrand hovering at a respectful difference, it seemed she might finally find out what their problem was.

"What is it?" She was pleased with the bored quality of her tone, as if she didn't care a bit what they were doing. She couldn't quite hide her surprise, though, when Bertrand came up and produced a cushion from behind his back.  
"We wanted to thank you for your help, for what you've done for both of us." He handed the cushion over and she stared at it for a moment. It wasn't an ugly cushion, by any means – it had her initials embroidered onto it, red silk and black lace, it was exactly the sort of cushion she'd have designed for herself… if she gave a _fog_ about cushions.  
"So you got me a cushion?" Bertrand took half a step backwards, Vlad stepping closer to his boyfriend, and she could tell this whole _radiating anger_ thing was working for her. She wasn't really sure why she was _angry_, just indignant really. After all she'd done for them, they'd got her a cushion? They might as well have stuffed it with garlic.

"Yeah," Vlad said, and she briefly wondered if he'd read her mind before realising he wasn't responding to the garlic idea at all. "After all, those High Council seats are a bit uncomfortable, and my sister deserves to be comfortable." She frowned.  
"But I don't have a High Council sea-" Vlad held out a letter, not bothering to hide his grin. Bertrand seemed to be struggling not to smile, too, as she scanned its contents.  
"Well… this is… _very_… acceptable." She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to _think_. She had been given a seat on the Vampire High Council, she was going to make history just by sitting in it… she was going to change the world.

"Thank you." She smiled. "Both of you." It must have been a lot of work, convincing all the Council Members they'd visited that a woman was fit for office. Yet they'd done it.  
"Well," Vlad said, "we work better together."


End file.
